An Array of Worlds
by Rebarbative
Summary: What happens when I'm bored? Well... Find out! Cast into different worlds, how will the three hunters react? T for character deaths. Don't own any series mentioned. Never finished!
1. The world of Twilight

**Hello there! I was bored, so I decided to write this. Don't worry, I'm not stopping my other story, ****Mission Hogwarts****, but I felt like writing something fun. Basically, this story involves our favorite hunters becoming Desmond's newest form of entertainment. Cast into several different worlds and times, how will our beloved vampires react? The chapters will be in Darren's point of view, unless someone requests otherwise. Leave any request for p.o.v's or worlds in the comments, or pm me!**

**Warning: May contain grammatical errors!**

Chapter One

"The World of Twilight"

"OOPH!" I yelled, falling, onto something that felt like granite and smelled like hair gel.

The… person under me groaned and tried to get up. They didn't get very far, because a _very _smelly vampire had just fallen on top of me. It wasn't long before a red cape and a scowl was added to the pile. My breath huffed out from the weight of the two men.

"Vancha…" I said quietly.

"Yes, Darren?" he replied, trying to sound innocent.

"GET OFF!" I yelled, shoving the smelly man.

He jumped off of me, throwing a dazed Mr. Crepsley onto the floor. I stood up, groaning as my bones creaked. Ugh… I'd have to burn my clothes to get Vancha's smell out of them. The figure that I had fallen on stood to his feet and glared at me. I ignored his look and glanced around the room. White, white, and oh look! More white. Whoever owned this house obviously had bad color coordination skills. I looked to the guy that I had fallen on. He had reddish-brown hair; which was currently lying flat as if it had been smashed. He fluffed it up when he saw me looking at it. I don't know how he manage to make it stand again; he had to have a least half a bottle of hair gel in his hair.

"What are you doing in my house!" he asked, still upset about his hair.

"Just enjoying the view," I said sarcastically.

We had fallen out of thin air for Ba' Halens' sake! Was this guy used to people appearing out of nowhere?

"Well, enjoy the view somewhere else. Get out of my house," he said rudely.

"First," I replied. "Tell me where we are."

"Forks, Washington," he replied sourly.

"_Washington_? As in America?" Vancha chimed in.

"Where did you think we were?" he asked, wrinkling his nose at Vancha. "And what on earth _are _you?"

"I'm a v–" he began.

"A very smell man," I said, giving him a pointed look.

"I resent that!" Vancha said sulkily. "I had a bath almost two weeks ago!"

Mr. Crepsley seemed to have found his bearings and asked the man, "What are _you_ supposed to be?"

"I'm… uh… ah… A hairstylist! Yeah, a hairstylist."

"Right…" I said skeptically. "A hairstylist made out of granite.

"What do you mean? Made out of granite?" Mr. Crepsley inquired. "I was simply referring to his question. If he thought we were not human, he must not be either."

"Well… I'm not made out of stone," he said nervously. "If you must know, I am a vampire. I can usually read minds, but I can't even sense your mind. So what are you?"

"That is impossible. There is no way that you are a vampire," Mr. Crepsley said, dusting off his robes.

"Do you want a demonstration?" He asked, pulling his lips back from his teeth.

He must have thought that he was pretty scary, because he made a ridiculous growling noise at us. Vancha laughed at the boy's antics.

"Is that supposed to be threatening?" he asked. "_This _is how a scary vampire should look."

He grimaced, showing his jagged yellow teeth and let his voice slip into a deep growl.

He raised his blade like nails and said in a mock Dracula accent, "I vant to suck jour vlood!" he said

We all laughed, except for the sulking 'vampire'. He whipped out his phone and updated his Twitter rapidly.

{Erhmahgahd. These guys just like fell from the sky and told me that I'm like, not a good vampire )=

#day=ruined}

"Well, at least I don't have green hair!" the 'vampire' said, fluffing up his hair to an impossible height.

"I'd rather have green hair than be a prissy, lame excuse for a vampire!" Vancha retorted.

"Alright ladies," I said, stepping between them. "Break it up. You're both pretty."

"Yes," said Mr. Crepsley, touching his own brightly dyed hair. "It would not be wise to start a fight with the one person who can help us."

The boy beamed proudly, while Vancha sulked. He was upset that Mr. Crepsley didn't take his side.

"Now," he continued. "Boy, what is your name?"

"I am not a boy," the… not boy said, looking insulted. "I am over a hundred years old. But my name is Edward Cullen."

"Big deal," Vancha busted out. "I'm over three hundred years old."

I rolled my eyes and said, "I am Darren Shan, vampire prince. The stuffy bat is Larten Crepsley, former vampire general. And the idiot in the animal skins is Vancha March. He's a prince too."

"Princes? Generals?" Edward said confused. "I better call Carlisle."

"What kind of name is Carlisle?" I said dumbfounded

Mr. Crepsley flicked me in the ear and gave me a warning glare. I walked away from him and stood next to Vancha, before deciding I'd rather not smell him.

"CarlisleWhatisavampiregeneral?" Edward said into the phone, talking so fast his words blurred together. "Whatdoyoumeanyoudontknow? *pause* Yes. EmmettJasperAliceRosalie. *anotherpause* No. Esmes gettinghernailsdid . Whatever. Goback tocuttingopendefenslesshumans

..*pause* Idontcareifyou'rehelpingthem! "

He snapped the phone closed and looked at us.

"Carlisle can't come home because he is in the middle of some surgery. My family will be home soon. Sans my mother. My girlfriend is coming over- she's human. If you touch her, I'll rip your heads off. "

"Hmmph," Mr. Crepsley growled. "I would not make threats if I were you. If you are what you say you are, disrespecting a prince is punishable by law."

"There are no such things as Vampire Princes. The Volturi are the only royalty in my world."

I rolled my eyes. This was going to be a long day

_**This… is… LINEBREAK!**_

About twenty minutes later, six people walked in. The first was a guy who kept flexing his muscles, even though Mr. Crepsley and Vancha were burlier than him. The second was a blond, who was currently snacking from a kibble-and-bits bag. The third was short –shorter than Harkat even. The fourth was holding a butcher knife, and had his eyelids taped open. The fifth kept biting his shoulder, as if he had fleas. The sixth was toting an apple, a rose, a torn ribbon, and a chess game in her arms. Her breathing was loud and hitched –as if she were terrified.

"Um, hello…" I said to the strange crew.

"HI!" said the short one, running up to me and bobbing up and down like a jackhammer. "MY NAME IS ALICE. CAN I GIVE YOU CLOTHES? WHY CAN'T I SEE YOUR FUTURE?"

"Er… no. And I don't know? Why on earth would you be able to see my future?

She ignored me and attacked Vancha.

"YOU NEED A BATH MISTER. AND THOSE ANIMAL HIDES ARE _SOO _LAST SEASON. DON'T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON THAT HAIR. WE ARE DYING IT. _NOW_."

"What! No!" said the red skinned prince. "AH! Let go of me!"

We all watched in horror as the small girl dragged Vancha into the nearest bathroom. Screams of torture could be heard coming from the room. I winced and turned back to the crowd.

"Isn't someone going to stop her?" I asked.

"There's no stopping Alice once she's started," the last girl said, rocking back in forth while clutching her items to her chest.

Suddenly, the apple fell out of her arms. It bounced once and rolled across the floor. The guy with the fleas bounded after it.

"OH BOY, FETCH!" he screamed, following the apple out of the door.

The apple rolled into a river that was in the back yard. The boy kept chasing it, unaware of the river's dangerous current. He jumped into the water and was dragged away. We could hear the gurgling as he laughed triumphantly. He had caught the 'ball'.

The girl who owned the apple broke into hysterics.

"NOOO!" she screamed. "NOT THE APPLE!"

She ran after the boy, still clinging to her remaining artifacts, and jumped into the river.

And then…

Both of them drowned.

Edward ran after the girl, screaming "BELLA MY LOVE!"

He drowned too.

The blond ran after Edward, yelling that she wanted him to love _her_.

She drowned

The burly one followed, trying to save his beloved.

He drowned.

We were left with just the guy with the knife. He proceeded to carve a pumpkin, unfazed by the death of most of his family. A sopping wet Vancha returned, wearing a cocktail dress. His hair had been dyed platinum blond and he was sporting a pair of pumps.

A ticking noise sounded, along with a familiar laugh. A swirling blue portal appeared and we were sucked into it.

_Oh no_, I thought. _Not this again._

**Please don't kill me if this sucked. This is my first attempt at a humor-based story.**

**=)**


	2. The world of Todd

**Alrighty. Here's the second chapter. Location requested by: Cat Attack 411! I'm planning on updating **_**Mission Hogwarts**_** tomorrow. The chapter is pretty much done; I just need to check over it before I post it. I plan to take turns on updating each story. **

**P.S this was written at about two in the morning, and I didn't beta it.**

**Thanks to Cat Attack 411 and the a person for your reviews!**

* * *

Chapter Two:

"The World of Todd"

We spun through the strange portal and, once again, plummeted out of it. This time I was lucky. I flew out last, so Mr. Crepsley broke my fall. We stood up, brushed ourselves off, and looked around. We had landed in what was probably a high school. The halls were empty, and judging by the sun, it was late afternoon. Class had probably just been let out.

"Why don't you guys hole up here while I find out where we are?" I reasoned; the sun was at its most dangerous to them now.

"No," said a dripping Vancha. "I want to find new clothes, _now."_

"Why?" Mr. Crepsley asked, snickering. "That dress is a lovely color on you. It complements your hair quite nicely."

"Do you think so?" he asked, spinning to look at himself. "I thought it made me look at bit plump at the waist."

"Um.." I said, getting an idea. "If you can find a locker room, there's bound to be clothes in it. Or even a costume closet would work."

"Fine," Vancha said. "Meet us here in an hour or we're coming after you. Sun or no sun."

"Deal," I said, heading towards the nearest exit.

I got outside and looked around. I did a double take when I saw a kid duct taped to a tree. Two other kids were standing in front of him. The kid on the tree was wearing a stereotypical Dracula cape. The boy with the steak was wearing a Hollister shirt and was examining the small, nerdy boy's hand, which was quickly yanked away.

"It's the only way to get proof!" the scrawny boy insisted, gesturing to the taped boy.

"By sacrificing yourself?" the other said disbelievingly.

The small boy wilted and I stepped a bit closer to see what was going on. They didn't hear my soft footsteps, but the boy on the tree did. He glanced at me, too quickly for the others to see, but it was a pleading glance.

"The garlic was a good idea, but not enough, I think," the larger boy said, patting the smaller on the back. "Vlad isn't like other vampires."

"Vampire?" I said surprised –how many weird vampires would I encounter today?

The smaller boy nearly fainted in surprise, but the large one merely spun around to assess me.

"Yes!" he said with a crazy glint in his eye. "Just look at his fangs!"

He used a twig to push up the other boy's lip, exposing absolutely normal teeth.

"Impressive," I snickered. "That boy isn't a vampire. Vampires don't have fangs anyways."

"Yes they do!" said Vlad the vampire indignantly. "Sfee!"

He had somehow managed to place a pair of plastic fangs in his mouth, despite the duct tape. I laughed and walked up to the boys. I slid my nail along the duct tape, ripping it open, and released the young 'vampire.' He immediately removed the necklace of garlic from around his neck and straightened his cape proudly.

"Hewwo," he said through his 'fangs.' "Mah name iff Vadamer Thod.

"Hi Vlad," I said politely. "Mah name iff Darren Shan."

He glowered and said, "Ifs no' smarf fo insulf a fff-ampire."

I rolled my eyes and said, "Come on. We both know you're not a vampire. You can take out the plastic fangs now."

He did, revealing his actual fangs, which were skinny and pointy. I blinked in surprise.

"See I told you I was a vampire!" he said triumphantly.

"Well," I said confused. "I guess the vampires around here have fangs. Where I come from, they don't."

"You've met other vampires?" he asked, fiddling with a loose string on his cape.

"Actually," I explained, "I am one."

"A vampire!" shouted the large boy. "I kill vampires!"

He reached into a bag that was at his feet and murmured a curse.

"Alas!" he said dramatically. "I have brought with me the wrong type of steak!"

He pulled a small fillet mignon and threw it at us, cackling madly. He then dumped a bag of coins, with the label for the _Slayer's Society_, onto Vlad's head. He ran away before the dazed vampire could retaliate.

"Okay.." I said. "That wasn't weird at all."

"Yes it was," said Vlad. "He normally brings T-bone steaks."

The small boy from earlier decided he wanted to stand up. despite being in the presence of two bloodthirsty vampires. He walked forward, with intent gleaming in his small eyes.

"Don't even think about it Eddie," Vlad warned, crushing the boy's camera.

The boy was so frightened by this, that he promptly wet himself and ran away.

"No-good, poet-named-after, nerd." Vlad mumbled.

"Alright then.." I said and changed the subject. "So where are we?"

"Um.. the schools smoking spot?" he replied, a tad confused.

"No. I mean, what town are we in?"

"Bathory. Why?"

"Just wondering. Say, mind helping a fellow vampire out?" I asked, getting an idea.

"Sure, but I don't think you're a vampire," he said.

"Why not?"

"Because you aren't bursting into flames.." he retaliated.

"Oh," I said, relieved. "I'm only half vampire so I can go out during the day."

"Nu-uh. I'm the only half vampire in existence!"

"Then how do you explain me?" I asked. "Never mind. Will you help me or not?"

"I guess."

I explained my situation to him, and he agreed to my plan.

* * *

(/*.*)/ line break construction!

We were sitting in Vlad's kitchen with all the curtains drawn. We were waiting for Vlad's uncle, a vampire named Otis. His Aunt Nelly had fixed us some cinnamon rolls, which I was trying to convince Vancha to try. He was now wearing a poodle skirt and a leather jacket. Apparently, the school had just had a play for _Grease_. He said his outfit was all he could find, but I think he just liked the outfit. He had curled his -still blonde- hair, which was now being shaken back in forth, from him displaying his reluctance to eat.

"NO!" he yelled, as I stuck the sweet pastry under his nose. "I won't eat it and you can't make me!"

In reply, Mr. Crepsley stuffed one of the rolls into Vancha's mouth, causing Vancha to scream as if he were in pain.

"Quit acting like a fool and eat the bun," instructed Mr. Crepsley. "It is rude for you to refuse the food that Ms. Nelly has made for you."

"Fine," he grumbled.

He stuffed the sticky pastry into his mouth, and tried not to show any signs of enjoying the treat. Meanwhile, Vlad was spinning all the coins that Josh threw at him. The sound was similar to the donation funnels that I used to see at the zoo when I was younger. A knock sounded at the door, which was presumably Otis. He opened the door without waiting for an answer and attempted to walk through the door. He came to an abrupt halt when he realized his large, purple hat was blocking the way. He fixed the problem by simply breaking the doorway.

"Hello Vladimir," he said to his nephew. "Are these the strange vampires you were talking about?"

"He calls us strange?" said a bewildered Vancha. "That hat has to be bigger than Hibernus'!"

It was indeed a large hat. It was so large in fact, that it knocked out Vlad's Aunt, who had just walked into the room. Otis had turned when he heard the noise, resulting in the hat smacking Nelly in the face. As Otis ran to her, another man walked in.

"And who are you?" inquired Mr. Crepsley.

"I am Dorian," he replied.

"IT'S D-DORIAN!" yelled Vlad, running around like a headless chicken.

"What's so special about Dorian?" I asked.

"HE'S LIKE, SUPER POWERFUL. HE WANTS TO DRINK MY BLOOD AND THERE'S NOTHING I, OR ANYONE ELSE CAN DO ABOUT IT!"

"Talk about your Mary Sues," I muttered under my breath.

"What's got goth boy all riled up?" asked Vancha, who was watching Vlad run into the brim of Otis' hat, knocking him out as well.

He managed a defiant, "I'm not goth!" before joining his Aunt in the land of unconsciousness.

"What are you?" Dorian asked, licking his hand like a cat.

"We are vampires," responded Mr. Crepsley solemnly.

"I think I desire your blood too!" he decided, running at Vancha.

He bit Vancha on the arm before we could warn him, and died of poisoning. Just then, Vlad woke up. He looked over and saw the body of Dorian on the ground. He seemed happy and dismayed about Dorian's death.

"Now I'll never know the prophecy!" he wailed, seeming hopeless, yet slightly relieved.

"It's okay," I told him. "Prophecies stink anyways. Trust me."

Another man flew through the broken door. He was wearing your typical Russian get-up, even though it was about ninety degrees outside. He took one look at Dorian and laughed happily. He proceeded to do the Cossack Dance. Vlad had decided to eat out of misery and had downed two dozen cinnamon rolls before switching to a tub of Nutella. Nelly finally woke up, only to knock herself out on the hat again when she attempted to stand.

"I do not think that today can get any stranger," commented Mr. Crepsley.

I groaned. The, now familiar, portal had opened again, whirring ominously.

Before we were sucked up, I told Mr. Crepsley, "Great, now you've jinxed us."

* * *

**That's all for this one! Where will they end up next? You decide! And please don't be insulted by this –I love the Vlad Todd series!**


	3. The World of Hunger

**Hello! Here is chapter three. Location requested by, KBerry! **

**Shout outs To KBerry and Cat Attack 411! Thanks for reviewing! **

**p.s Haven't read this series in a year or so, so some names may be spelled wrong!**

* * *

"The World of Hunger"

We spun through the portal and landed with the normal crash. There was a loud rumbling noise, as if we were in some sort of a vehicle. I stood up, and inhaled deeply. I regretted my actions instantly, because I was forced into a hacking cough. Through my watering eyes, I managed to make out the figures of several people, who were staring at the three of us as if… well, as if we had just appeared out of nowhere. I took a cautious breath. Yuck. It smelled like someone had bathed in disgustingly sweet perfume. My eyes cleared some and I could see the people around me better. My jaw dropped.

I'd seen purple skinned vampaneze, but that still didn't prepare me for this. These people had purple blue, red, green, yellow, and even orange skin. Their hair was just as colorful. I turned to Mr. Crepsley.

"Mr. Crepsley?"

"Yes. Darren?"

"I think it just got stranger."

* * *

After a few minutes of the strange… people staring at us, a few official looking officers came in, holding high-tech guns.

"State your names," said one of the white uniformed men, with a weird, lilting accent.

"Vur Horston."

"Darren Horston."

"Vancha Harst."

If these people were a threat, it was best not to give them our real names. Except for Vancha. His fake name _was_ his real name, which was a bit confusing.

"What is your business here?" he asked, after writing the names down. "Plutarch said that you fell from some sort of vortex. Is this true?"

"Well," said Vancha, taking charge. "We're not sure what our business is here, and yeah we fell out of the stupid portal…" he trailed off, murmuring curses about yellow suits and rain boots.

A man stepped forward and pushed away the officer's gun.

"What's this about yellow suits and rain boots?" he asked, stepping closer to Vancha.

"That meddler Desmond Tiny sent us here, god knows why. Ever seen the guy? Short and fat, with little round glasses? Looks like a kind old man, but would bite your hand off before shaking it?"

"Vancha, please," said Mr. Crepsley, glaring at the prince.

"As a matter of fact I have," he said. "He gave me this watch."

He seemed to go into a sort of trance, swaying in time to the second hand on the watch. Vancha snatched the man's arm, with the intent of examining the watch. However, the officers did not seem to like this. One sent a tazer at Vancha, who fell to the ground. The other officers trained their guns on Mr. Crepsley and me. We held our hands up. Suddenly a drunken man staggered forward, out of the crowd.

"I luh-ike these guyss," he slurred wrapping an arm around me and Mr. Crepsley, smelling strongly of booze. "Wuh-y don't you sennnd them up with meh and I'll bring em back to the Dist–"

He didn't get to finish his sentence, because he promptly passed out. I stepped backwards –this man smelled almost as bad as Spritz did. The man with the watch seemed to think about this for a minute.

"Alright," he said finally. "They can stay with District Twelve until we reach the Capital."

"But sir–"began the man who tazed Vancha

"He was not going to hurt me," said the man, ending the conversation. "Take them to their compartment.

* * *

We had followed the man to the end of the train, where he led us to some high tech looking compartment. The furniture was strange, but looked comfortable. I didn't know how wide this train was, but it had doors leading to the sides, which presumably led to bed rooms. The man left and locked the door with a resounding, _click_.

We lounged on the couches (well… Vancha sat on the floor) and waited for someone to explain where we were. We were taking guesses ourselves, but we couldn't be sure.

"Maybe we're in Japan," suggested Vancha.

"None of these people look Asian," I pointed out.

"Who's here!" yelled a girl, who had just come into the room. "I hear voices!"

She was average looking, with long braided hair. There were several cats sitting at her feet, who were currently hissing at us.

"I am Vancha," Vancha said to the scared girl. "This is Vur, and this is Darren."

"Hello," Mr. Crepsley and I said in unison.

"Hi," said the girl, still looking petrified. "I'm Catnip- I mean, Katniss."

Another person walked into the room, this one was a boy. He was holding a cake that was disguised as tree bark in one arm, and several loaves of burnt bread in the other.

"And I'm Peeta."

Katniss seemed startled by his appearance too. She ran to the corner of the room screaming. She hit the wall and went down. The drunk guy from earlier stumbled out of another door, holding a large bottle of some kind of spirits.

"Whads all thee screaman foorr?" he asked, rubbing his temple with his free hand.

"Katniss got scared again," explained Peeta. "Just go back to your room Haybit- I mean, Haymitch. I know how to handle this."

He then proceeded to tear the burnt parts of the bread off and threw them at Katniss. She ate them like a duck would; her arms waving like strange wings.

She eventually ate her fill and set herself on fire.

"I'M THE GIRL ON FIRE!" she screamed happily. "I'M THE GIRL ON FIRE!"

Haymitch walked in, drawn by the noise, and stared at the burning girl.

"I'LL SAVE YOU KATNISS!" yelled Peeta, who took Haymitch's bottle of spirits.

He poured the bottles contents onto her head. We watched in horror as the flames grew, feeding off the alcohol. The train's fire system decided to go off, drenching us all in ice cold water. I spluttered, not expecting the sudden rush of cold.

The water stopped after a second. The still smoldering Katniss stood up, and cursed the sprinkler system. Haymitch sobbed, the loss of his alcohol saddening him. Three people burst in. The first was green, with strange gold tattoos covering her body. The second had bright pink hair and violet markings across her face. The third seemed relatively normal. He had brown hair, and the only oddity about him was the gold eyeliner he wore.

"Like Oh-my-gawd Katniss. That's like the third time you've set yourself on fire this week," said the green skinned lady. "Oooh, who are your friends?"

"Octavia," said the normal-ish one, distracting her. "Come look at this."

He was inspecting Vancha. His platinum blond hair, red skin, leather jacket, and poodle skirit made him stand out in a crowd anywhere.

"Platinum blond hair?" asked the man. "That is like, soooo last millennia. We are giving you a makeover… In fact, let's give _all _three of them a makeover.

Octavia and pink-hair screamed in excitement. Pink hair grabbed Mr. Crepsley, Octavia grabbed Vancha, and the man grabbed me. I screamed in protest as the strange man dragged me off.

* * *

He led me to a room and sat me down in a chair.

"First," he said, prying my mouth open, "let's get these teeth fixed."

"Stick your hands in my mouth and I'll bite your fingers off," I warned.

"Fine," he said. "Then I guess I'll just have to wax your eyebrows."

"No!" I yelled. "I'm a prince; you can't do this to me!"

"A prince, eh?" he said. "That gives me an idea."

* * *

_Ugh_, I thought, scratching my arm for the zillionth time. _What on earth is this clothes made out of?_ Cinna, the man who gave me my 'makeover,' took my words way too seriously. He had dressed me in a regal outfit; a coal black shirt, with leather pants, and a long flowing cape. Over the plain black shirt, he put a fancy looking chainmail shirt. Upon my head was a silver crown, with blue flames dancing across it. I had touched the flames once, and they didn't burn me, so they must be some sort of illusion. We were waiting in the dining compartment for Vancha and 'Vur' to return. Mr. Crepsley came back first. His face and hair seemed to be untouched. He had gotten new clothes though. They looked a lot like his old ones, but when he moved, the material seemed to ripple. The stylist kept looking at Mr. Crepsley with frightened eyes. I supposed threats worked on _her_. A few minutes later, Vancha walked in. His hair was back to its normal green, and he was wearing his customary animal skins. But they were from no animal I had ever seen. They were a brilliant purple and had strange designs across them. They didn't seem to be dyed either.

"Vur, Vancha," said. "I think I know where we are.

* * *

"The future?" said Vancha, extremely confused. "I thought you've been to the future before?"

"Maybe this is what happens to the humans that survive," I argued.

"It is possible," said Mr. Crepsley, scratching his scar. "We know that Tiny has the ability to maneuver through time. That is the most likely explanation."

"Well," I said. "There's one way to find out."

"Cinna," I said, getting the man's attention. "What year is it?"

"3016, why?" he asked, looking confused.

My jaw dropped. We were even farther in the future than when I had gone with Harkat.

"Just wondering," I said lamely.

A horn sounded, and I heard many footsteps heading our way. People filed in, taking random seats at the long table we were seated at. Many were taking discreet glances at us, muttering about our strange appearance on the train. A large man, wearing only a leaf over his privates, walked in. He had a trident in his hand, which he was spinning idly. He decided to sit next to Mr. Crepsley, who did not look pleased. Peeta decided to sit next to me. Katniss sat next to him and began lighting matches.

The food was brought out by silent servants. If I hadn't been able to see their faces, I would have thought they were little people. Peeta didn't eat his food; he was too busy camouflaging it. Katniss ate her food, but only after she had burnt it thoroughly. The man by Mr. Crepsley was using his trident as a fork, occasionally whacking other people in the head with it. I decided to eat. I didn't know if there would be food anytime soon. The next world could be a barren wasteland. The other two followed my lead, and scarfed down their meals.

As I was eating, I noticed a strange smell. It smelled like burning –burning table cloth. I smacked my forehead and looked to my right. Katniss had set the table on fire. The train's fire protection system hadn't had time to refill since the last fire, so only a few pitiful drops came out of the ceiling. The rest of the train's population seemed to have realized this too. They scrambled around in a frenzied panic. We vampires knew that panicking led to death, so we calmly made our way out of the compartment.

"So, what should we do?" I asked the two older vampires.

"We have to jump," said Vancha. "The fire will spread and engulf the train soon."

We all agreed and found the nearest exit. We found one, but there was one problem.. The train was going at about two hundred miles an hour. We looked at each other and a mutual understanding passed between us. I made the death's touch sign and jumped…

Right into another portal.

* * *

**:D Costume change! How will the next world react to their strange get-ups?**


End file.
